


thumbin' my way into north carolina.

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: I didn't write angst for once, M/M, hahahahaha like levi lolz, this is really short and kinda dumb, who am i kidding everything i write is short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3571535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>'Those are musicians hands ya got there, huh, kid?'</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	thumbin' my way into north carolina.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know when I wrote this....,,,.... Enjoy I guess¿ I think it was like a few weeks ago? A month? Idk. All I know, is that it was really late and I had Wagon Wheel stuck in my head. God.

_North Carolina, 1989_

—

_'We're pretty great, huh?'_

_'Yeah, kid. We're fucking golden.'_

. 

_Tennessee, 1991_

His bronzed hands were nothing more than instruments themselves—implemented in the process of strumming - one tune, to the next. 

Heady liquor and air combined, dingy - small bars—arms smacking against another with every movement. 

_life._

Callouses had never served him better—and he hadn't served them at all. 

His guitar was a gift. 

And he recalled the day it had been given by another with dark grey eyes the shade of damp slate—remembered the way the other man had laughed low in his throat as his own, bronzed fingers brushed along pale skin. 

'Those are musicians hands ya got there, huh, kid?' 

And he remembered feeling his serious expression crack—trailing hands along the other man's bare chest—a small upturn of his lips evident.

'Don't you know, Levi?'

'I suppose I should.'

And Levi's eyes were full of unspoken amusement as Eren responded—seeming to sparkle in the dim room. 

_'Yeah, considerin' where they've been.'_

.

It was dark—black sky reminding him of inky fringe across grey, and storm clouds—the impending smell of a nice country rain. 

The headlights were bright—he hoped they would stop, his thumb extended outward. 

They did, along with a vehicle—and he rode on the back of that old, dilapidated pick-up truck. 

—hoping for North Carolina, and praying for _him._

.

_Eight dollars._

He had eight dollars, and nowhere to go—his clothing was worn, tattered—but an objective was possessed. 

Outside of that small Virginia gas station—he sat. And played, fingers moving like they always had—like it was an innate ability.

He'd always supposed it was. 

Spare change made its way into his case. 

And he smiled. 

_This ain't North Carolina, yet._

.

It was a week later, and he had a dollar—clothing sopping wet in the elderly man's truck, guitar resting in the back - an old wife sitting between them; her grey hair reminded him of silver—and that one strand on Levi's head, contrasting with inky black that he'd never admit to at twenty-five. 

'Ya got it bad, huh son?'

And the woman simply laughed. 

Sweaty palms gripping his knees, accompanied by the subtle nod of his head—green eyes sparkling in the dim Virginia night's light—Eren smiled as he turned his head to look at her, the world outside passing in an inconsequential blur.

'I love him. And he said he'd wait for me—told me I needed to explore before I went tyin' myself down. But—'

His voice cracked.

The woman looked at him—the wrinkles on her face creasing around her lips that had begun to turn up into a small smile.

'But there ain't no helpin' lovin', is there boy?'

'No ma'am. Such a thing can't be done. Soon as I left North Carolina, all I could think was to get back to him.'

'I wish ya luck.'

And the calm night air, with the slow cricket chirps—seemed to as well. 

.

_North Carolina, late 1991_

His palms were sweaty—hands fidgeting as they had when he'd stood on this old, creaking porch for the first time - six years ago. 

He'd been eighteen, wanting nothing more than to see him—go out to dinner and place light kisses across his stupid face—

The door opened.

A sharp inhale—accompanied by muscular, pale arms wrapping around his neck—his own snaking around the other's waist. 

'It's been so long missing you, Eren.'

'I love you, so, so much. I explored—lived on my own.' A breath against dark hair—green eyes hidden in black. 'Came runnin' back anyways.' 

When they broke apart, Levi looked at Eren for the first time in two years. 

_and it was beautiful._


End file.
